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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27981321">Hell in a Handbasket</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/rockthecasbah18/pseuds/rockthecasbah18'>rockthecasbah18</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Boss/Employee Relationship, Drunkenness, Eventual Romance, F/M, Idiots in Love, Porn with Feelings, Semi-Public Sex, Shameless Smut, Vaginal Fingering</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:00:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,204</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27981321</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/rockthecasbah18/pseuds/rockthecasbah18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Much to her chagrin, Draco ends up as Hermione's boss. Even worse, he's been invited to her birthday party. Indulging in drinks leads to indulging in much more. It all feels very wrong - but since when did wrong feel so right?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>97</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. First Circle of Hell</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was amazing, but unsurprising. Funny that, the rich always made out well, even when they committed the most heinous of crimes. The Malfoy family had been quite expectedly exonerated after donating several large lump sums to several large Ministry departments in need of extensive renovations. What importance was a little murder when the Department of Magical Games and Sports had leaky sinks in the men’s loo?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lucius Malfoy quickly was reinstated as chief executive officer of Malfoy, Benoit &amp; Frankland, his family consulting business. No one really knew who Benoit and Frankland were, and no one really knew what “consulting” Lucius actually did, but the end result was millions and millions of pounds in his family’s coffers, so no one really dared to ask.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Narcissa Malfoy had fled to the Malfoy villa in Marbella, coming home only for major holidays and press events. Every visit brought forth a tanner, blonder, more care-free Narcissa. Her newfound gaiety could most likely be attributed to the tall, dark and handsome Spanish pool boy. Or the muscular Lithuanian personal trainer. Or even the imported, straight from France, sommelier at the restaurant a few blocks away. But no one really dared ask about that either.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And Draco Malfoy? Well, he was Hermione Granger’s boss.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>-- -- -- </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hermione had been working for the Department of International Magical Cooperation for years, now. Previous to, she’d gone on to muggle university (London School of Economics and Political Science, actually), and finished in two years, rather than three. It had been a nice reprieve from the wizarding world in the aftermath of the war, and had allowed her to spend more time with her parents, who had returned to England once their memories were returned. Needless to say, a lot of trust had to be rebuilt there.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After uni, Hermione had interviewed for a position in the ministry, hoping to work in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. She’d been ushered quickly into a different wing of the building, and Kingsley had explained in no uncertain terms that she was much better suited to working for the DIMC, offering her little choice in the matter. What a brilliant asset, the Golden Trio’s golden girl, working for international relations? And she conceded, as someone who rarely said the word no, and couldn’t argue the logic of the Minister.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nine years later, Hermione was a little less golden, and a lot more jaded. Working for the DIMC had begun with promises of growth, and promotion, and while those things both happened, they’d seemed to plateau. Normalcy came back in the wizarding world, and her celebrity started to fade. No longer did the Minister drag her along to every meeting with ambassadors from every wizarding community around the world, no longer did she need to use her status to gain the affections of England’s magical once-adversaries.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hermione mostly spent her days writing proposals of regulation on international magical trade. Oh, and trying desperately to ignore the fact that she found her boss’s cedarwood and fig aftershave arousing. It lingered, that was the thing. She could tell if he’d just walked down the hall by the smell alone, and it did uncomfortable things to her insides. And it made her knickers damp.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>On the eve of her thirtieth birthday, Hermione sat at her desk, late as usual, finalizing the wording of a proposal set to be reviewed by the Wizengamot the following week. She’d promised to attend a tiny soiree in her honor at the Leaky Cauldron that evening, but at this rate she’d be quite unfashionably late.</p>
<p>“Hermione?,” a familiar voice came from the doorway to her office. “I’m about to head over to the Leaky now - came to bring you along with me.” Hermione didn’t bother looking up at Harry from her work, and instead rolled her eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Harry, just go on without me, I’ll be along soon,” Hermione murmured, pushing an errant curl from her face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Figured you’d say that,” Harry said with a sigh, entering her office. “And that’s why I’m not accepting ‘no’ for an answer. You’re coming with me, or you’re in direct disobedience of an officer of the law.” Another eye roll from Hermione, a chuckle from Harry.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fine,” Hermione huffed. Setting her quill down, she quickly packed up her briefcase, offering Harry the most genuine (read, not very) smile she could muster.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, and Hermione,” Harry started, offering his bent arm for her to accept, “there’s something I’ve meant to tell you about tonight.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Harry, please, no surprises.” Her thin fingers dug into his forearm in warning, and Harry grimaced.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s just that - well, there’s going to be an extra guest.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>— — —</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Draco Malfoy wasn’t quite sure how he’d ended up as head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. He was sure it had something to do with money, possibly blackmail, and definitely a well-placed threat or two. But here he was, running his own department, quite independently wealthy, and unhappy as fuck.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The war had ended, his family name had been cleared, blah blah blah. He had anything tangible he could ever want - a townhome in Belgravia, a muggle sports car (by some guy named McLaren), and a black cat named Phillip. Even so, Draco found himself increasingly lonely as time wore on. He worked too much, had little time for the vapid dates his mother arranged, and his friends had almost all begun getting married and having children.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Theo had two sets of twins, and Draco talked to Phillip more than he talked to humans. So maybe that was why, when Potter had asked if he’d join them for a Granger birthday get-together, he’d agreed so quickly. The look on Potter’s face made it quite clear he hadn’t been expecting that answer, and Draco almost changed his mind.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Standing in front of the stand-alone mirror in his room, Draco straightened his thin, blue tie and sighed. Was he really this desperate for human contact?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>— — —</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Well good,</em> Hermione thought to herself, slugging back her second glass of Pinot Grigio, <em>he hasn’t arrived yet</em>. Breaking the news to her had been something akin to sharing that one needed a tooth pulled - she had scowled first, pouted second, then resolutely accepted that she couldn’t change the outcome.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It wasn’t that Draco didn’t fit in with the group - they’d all seemed to forgive, forget and even embrace him at some point or another - it was that he didn’t fit in with <em>her</em>. No matter what Hermione did, he picked it apart. No matter what she said, he disagreed. No matter what she achieved, he didn’t congratulate.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Signaling for another glass of wine, Hermione tried to tune back in to what Theo had been saying to her. <em>Another snake in their circle.</em> Hermione was sure it had something to do with one of the sets of twins he had; apparently they ran in the Greengrass family and Daphne had neglected to mention.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hermione sniffed the air delicately. <em>Oh hell. </em>She finished half of the fresh glass of crisp white wine in one gulp, her cheeks bulging out indelicately at the very moment she made direct eye contact with Draco. He nodded once from across the room, the most she’d received in greeting in <em>months</em>, and greedily accepted the glass of scotch neat that Ron was offering him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Since when did he drink scotch with her friends? She snorted. Nodding politely to Theo, she excused herself and made a beeline for Ginny, the one person who she knew would commiserate with her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Gin, are we living in an alternate reality? What is this,” Hermione scoffed as she scooted into the booth next to the slender redhead. She waved her hand at the room around them. “Salazar and Godric would be proud. Maybe.” Ginny snorted.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Strange isn’t it,” Ginny hummed in agreement. “I have to say, it’s a lot more fun with that lot around.” Hermione fixed Ginny with a look that made the younger girl put her hands up placatingly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey, I was getting tired of seeing Seamus and Dean get into a pissing match over who could outdrink who every time we went anywhere. At least now it’s Seamus, Dean, Marcus <em>and </em>Adrian.” There was a well-timed cheer from the corner of the room as Seamus fell ungracefully from his barstool. Ginny shrugged.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s not that big of a deal, Hermione. Plus, a few of them are quite nice to look at.” Ginny waggled her eyebrows and Hermione made a retching noise.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What,” Ginny asked accusingly. “You can’t tell me you’ve never thought about what Blaise’s cock looks like.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hermione choked on her wine and aggressively shushed Ginny.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Gin! You’re married,” Hermione hissed, “and no, I haven’t. Of course not, he’s Draco’s best friend.” Taking a long pull from her vodka cocktail, Ginny smirked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So his is the cock you’ve imagined then? I can see the allure.. always wondered if he was just an arsehole or an arsehole for a reason,” Ginny mused, eyes tracing down the tall form of the blonde. “My guess is long but lacking in girth. The kind of prick that looks good on paper but is a bit of a let down.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ginny,” Hermione screeched, her empty wine glass clanking loudly on the table and causing a few heads to turn. “You can’t talk about people’s cocks like that!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Whose are we discussing?” The posh accent made Hermione freeze. “Because I’m sure I’ve seen just about every cock here in a quidditch locker room at some point or another.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And it looks like you need another glass of wine,” Ginny said hurriedly, clambering over her friend’s lap and out of the booth. “Be back in a mo’.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hermione was sure she was bright red. Draco merely looked at her expectantly. <em>Was he really expecting an answer?</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No one’s, Malfoy,” Hermione spat with less venom than she would’ve preferred. “Unless you’re a cock connoisseur?” Draco rolled his eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No such luck there, Granger,” he mused, sliding into the booth directly across from her. “I think I’ve made my proclivities quite clear.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes,” Hermione jibbed, “I’ve seen the parade of women whose company you keep in the Prophet. Surprised you haven’t brought one with you tonight.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Draco merely shrugged. “The invite was only extended for one. That’s actually why I came over, by the way.” He paused, licked his lips in a nervous fashion (that Hermione definitely watched alittle <em>too </em>closely) and cleared his throat. “Happy Birthday.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, <em>er</em>, thanks Malfoy.” A wine glass was pushed into her hand as Ginny returned, and she sipped it delicately. “Thanks for…coming, I guess.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Have you seen Parkinson’s new tits,” Ginny interrupted, looking back towards the bar, “they’re gorgeous!” And just like that, Hermione went back to shushing her friend and Draco was gone.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>— — —</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Draco supposed Granger looked nice this evening. He was glad he wore the tie, anyway, as it set him a bit above the motley crew of sweaters and tee shirts assembled in the pub. Hermione was clearly wearing what she’d worn to work that day, a slim fitting grey pencil skirt, sheer black stockings and a silky cream colored blouse. And black pumps that Draco decided immediately required amending the Department handbook on appropriate work attire to <em>not</em> include. It wasn’t that they were bad, <em>per</em> <em>se, </em>but they definitely didn’t make him think anything good, either.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He could only imagine the amount of cushioning charms she’d placed on them, as the heel was easily five inches tall and the arch impossible. Hermione often wore high heels, probably in an effort to seem larger than her quite petite stature would allow, but these were just absurd. The thin stiletto heel and pointed patent leather toe had Draco thinking of how they’d make her the perfect height to take against his kitchen counter after a night of drinking such as this.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He shook his head and cleared his throat. These were the type of errant thoughts that made him dislike her even more. Draco would’ve thought she’d cast some sort of lust spell on him, if it weren’t dark magic to do so. Ever since he’d been made her boss, these <em>thoughts</em> popped into his head, very unwelcome, at least once a day.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re not still seeing Astoria, are you,” Blaise asked, nudging his friend gently in the arm. The Italian nodded in the direction of the younger Greengrass sister, perched like a queen on a barstool surrounded by Charlie and Ron Weasley and the Macmillan bloke from Hufflepuff. Draco shook his head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Right, then I’m definitely taking <em>that</em> home with me tonight,” Blaise said with a lascivious grin. “Absolutely my type.”</p>
<p>“What isn’t your type, Blaise,” Draco drawled. His friend shrugged.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re right. Honestly, it was a toss up between her and Justin, but he looks like he’s about to be the third in a Marcus and Adrian sandwich.” Blaise leered at Draco. “Speaking of, you’re more than welcome to join in if you can’t pull tonight.” Draco stuck out his tongue and Blaise laughed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“C’mon mate, we’re the only two single one’s left. The solo Slytherins. The free fellas. The unwed.. well, you get my point,” Blaise finished, taking a chug of his lager. “Is it true she’s got a botched nipple from her surgery? I guess I’ll be finding out soon enough.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Draco watched as Blaise strode confidently towards the circle, and slammed his scotch back in one go. He’d had enough of the night, he thought. He’d said a well-wish to the birthday girl (awkward) and listened to Theo prattle on about the newest twins bowel movements for too long (more awkward). The scotch had made him feel lighter than usual, a little buzzed, and it was probably for the best that he went home while he could still apparate.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>— — —</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Too much wine.</em> Hermione stomped her stiletto against the pavement with a huff. How difficult was it to get a cab out here? She definitely wasn’t going to risk apparating; she’d fully drank at least a bottle of wine to herself. And the longer she was out here, the longer the revelers inside had the opportunity to begin searching for her. It’d been a nice night, it had, but she was ready to go home and curl up with the aging Crookshanks and fall asleep on her sofa.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Another black cab sped by her outstretched hand and Hermione let out a high pitched growl of frustration. A snicker from behind her had her spinning with her wand out.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Woah, Granger, wouldn’t want to attack me outside of a pub full of aurors would you?” Draco smirked down at her and professionally extended his hand, the nearest cab coming up curbside next to them. He opened the door, following her in.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Excuse you,” Hermione scoffed, “What do you think you’re doing?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Splitting a cab.” Draco gave the driver his address and she reluctantly followed suit. She crossed her arms under her chest, trying to focus her eyes on the buildings as the blurred by. The scent of his aftershave was overwhelming in the small cab. It was making her think… <em>things</em>… that she tried not to think. Draco was her boss, and a massive prick. Speaking of massive pricks -</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Malfoy, what does your cock look like?” The words were out of her mouth before her brain caught up to what she was saying. Hermione slapped her hand over her mouth and Draco looked at her as though she’d been Imperius’d.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Excuse me?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hermione had a decision to make in that moment - pretend that someone had cursed her or pretend that she was absolutely shattered drunk. Instead,</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I really don’t know why I just asked that,” she mumbled, eyes wide as a deer in headlights. Draco studied her for a moment, assessing the level of drunkenness, before looking out the window. The cab neared his townhome, and Draco sighed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, Granger, are you going to come in and find out?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>— — —</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her feet seemed to follow him up the stairs and into his home involuntarily, but she knew that there was absolutely no coercion needed to convince her into his house. It was like months and months and months of thoughts and daydreams and <em>what ifs</em> were suddenly being presented to her on a platter, and she worried that if she didn’t take the chance, it may never happen again. And she was suitably drunk enough to blame it on that when Ginny most assuredly harassed it out of her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She watched as Draco toed his shoes off by the door and followed suit, immediately shrinking to be a foot smaller than the man in front of her. He was quiet, moving down the hall towards the back of the home, and she followed curiously. He needed to say something soon, <em>damn it</em>, or she’d lose all resolve.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hungry?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hermione blinked as the lights of the kitchen flickered on. Draco reached to the center of the island, grabbing an unopened bottle of red wine. She shook her head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Me either,” Draco murmured, opening the bottle with a ‘pop’.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I - We -,” Hermione stammered before clamping her mouth shut. She really ought to just go while her dignity was still in tact.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ground rules?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hermione met his eyes and noticed that they’d darkened a shade to much steelier grey.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She nodded.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“If I do anything that makes you uncomfortable, that you don’t want to do or that you don’t like, let me know, and we will stop.” Hermione nodded again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We don’t discuss this with anyone, and definitely not at work.” A nod.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Most importantly-“ Hermione closed the distance between them, shaking her head and clapping hand over his mouth.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Stop talking,” she whispered, “I’ve always found your voice rather annoying and it’s making me change my mind.” With a growl, Draco lifted the tiny witch onto the marble island counter, pushing both thighs apart and fitting himself between them. His hands grabbed her arse, pulling her to the edge of the counter and against his rapidly hardening length. Hermione linked her arms around his neck, her hips thrusting against his as her fingers pulled roughly at the hairat the nape of his neck.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Last chance,” Draco murmured, leaning in so that his lips brushed against hers in what one could, if they tried very hard, consider a kiss.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Shut. The fuck. Up.” And with that, Draco took a fistful of her unruly curls, gripping them almost painfully and forcing her head back just enough to leave her neck exposed. He laved kisses there, sucks and bites that were sure to leave marks that warranted a glamour for a week following. She groaned against him, trying to move to catch his lips but his grip only tightened, keeping her in place. Instead, she reached out with small hands to fumble with his belt, but the pull on her hair that followed had her dropping her hands and gasping.</p>
<p>“No, Granger,” Draco spoke lowly, “this goes at my pace, or it doesn’t go at all.” Her eyes searched his and saw only pure, unbridled lust and she lost her will to argue.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His fingers relinquished their hold on her hair, and trailed down the front of her to pluck easily at the buttons on her blouse. His eyes followed his hands, drinking in every sliver of tanned skin that was revealed. She was aching to be touched, but feared that if she grabbed for him he might stop altogether.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Lay back.” The command was sharp. She followed it immediately. His hands smoothed up her thighs, before going to the hem of her skirt and rucking it up about her hips.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Christ, Granger,” he murmured, eyes flickering to the tops of her stockings, held delicately in place by a black garter belt. She was bare other than that, completely bare and obviously glistening.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Is this how you walk around the office?” Draco dragged a finger through her folds. <em>So deliciously wet. </em>She whimpered.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Only on Friday’s,” she mumbled breathlessly as he sunk his finger into her. He added another and delicately curled them upwards, his palm connecting with her clit on every slow thrust.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why do I feel like I’m going to hell,” Hermione murmured breathlessly, her hips shifting under his hands to match his thrusts. It was <em>so </em>good, so good and so fucking wrong. His two fingers stretched her in a way that had her practically salivating for what was surely to come.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“If this is what it feels like,” Draco purred, as he leant down until she could feel his warm breath rush against her pussy in shallow pants, “I’m right behind you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>— — —</p>
<p>The pounding started right above her right eye, which felt as though it was glued shut. She definitely hadn’t taken off her makeup before falling asleep. Hermione cracked open the left one instead and panic immediately clenched in her chest. <em>Fuck, where am I? </em>Grey sheets, darker grey curtains pulled tightly against the morning sunlight. Sore, so sore and sticky warm in places she shouldn’t be. It all came crashing back to her like a tidal wave.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well,” a voice, husky with sleep, spoke next to her. “Did it exceed expectation, then?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Oh, Hell</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for the love on the first chapter! Here's a little aftermath to move the plot along. Enjoy! x</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“There’s the birthday girl,” Ron Weasley grinned, crossing the threshold of Hermione’s office, broad hands nearly crushing the takeout latte cups he held. “Figured you may need one of these.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hermione only groaned, not bothering to lift her head from her hands. Ron set the cup in front of her, taking a seat in one of the prim leather chairs across from her. “Made it home safe last night, I reckon? You disappeared so we assumed you’d gone to tuck yourself in.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Something like that,” Hermione murmured, finally lifting her head and reaching out for the cup. She clutched the drink in both hands, sipping at it delicately; her stomach still hadn’t completely settled from her quite eventful morning.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She had woken up in Malfoy’s bed - panicked - promptly redressed with a few awkward compliments to the blonde man (had she <em>really </em>called his prick “magnificent”?) and then apparated from his doorstep with her heels dangling in her hand.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ron slurped loudly at his coffee drink, interrupting her thoughts and grating on her already shattered nerves. He tapped his fingers against the cardboard and Hermione fixed him with a glare.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What,” she snapped. Ron hummed, a small smile splitting his features until it was a full-blown grin.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You,” he said pointedly - actually pointing a finger at the curly haired witch across from him - “look thoroughly shagged, Hermione Jean Granger.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She choked on her coffee, wiping the sleeve of her jacket across her mouth.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Wha- Who- Why, exactly-“ But Ron merely silenced her with a hand.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hermione, love, we <em>have</em> shagged before, if you’ll remember. And to be quite honest, I’d even go so far as to say this mystery bloke did a far better job than I ever did.” He waved his hand, gesturing to her hair and face. “I never left you looking quite so… wrecked. So, who is he? Anyone we know? Please, please tell me it wasn’t Seamus - he was arse over tit last night.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hermione stuck her tongue out. “Yuck, Ronald. Have some faith.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Who, then? You didn’t get dragged into Blaise and Astoria’s threesome, somehow, did you? They asked me but I heard she has a wonky nipple and you know how I am, always putting my foot in my mouth - wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep my thoughts to myself…” Ron prattled on, listing off potential partners and gossiping about the goings-on of the night before. Hermione looked to her office ceiling in a silent prayer, hoping he wouldn’t come to the right conclusion.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ah! Was it Creevey? Blimey, Hermione, he’s what… four years younger than you? Good on ya, I heard he shagged Pansy six times in one night a couple years back. No wonder you’re such a sight.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hermione slapped a palm flat against her desk, surprising even herself. </p>
<p>“Ron! It wasn’t Dennis. Or Blaise and Astoria. Or anyone! I merely had too much to drink, and I- went home. I went home, and passed out on my couch, which is probably why I look and feel like complete, and utter shite. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a very important meeting I need to get to.” Hermione shuffled some random papers into a manila folder on her desk, standing up and wincing at the twinge of pain in her arse. <em>In the arse, really?!</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ron merely raised an eyebrow at her before standing. “Well, when you’re ready to come clean, you know I’d love to hear all the sordid details.” <em>Filthy gossip,</em> Hermione thought to herself, brushing past her old friend and out the door. Their own teenaged fumbling somehow had given Ron the idea that they were now bosom buddies, and he regularly shared his own sexual experiences, asking for advice or regaling tales of his own prowess. Hermione hadn’t the heart to tell him that thinking of his freckled prick made her slightly queasy, and besides she really did love him, so she mostly listened dutifully. She never before had stories to tell of her own, and now that she did, she most <em>definitely </em>was not going to spill the beans.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Heels clipping down the hall, Hermione stopped abruptly, realizing where her feet had taken her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>— — —</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“To what do I owe the pleasure, Miss Granger?” Blaise Zabini stood from his desk like the perfect gentleman that he wasn’t as she crossed the threshold of his office. By the powers that be (namely, Draco), Blaise had been named the British liaison to the Ministero della Magia de Italia. Hermione was slightly sure it had less to do with skill and more to do with the fact of Blaise’s fluency in Italian and infinitely deep pockets. She would like to think that foreign officials couldn’t be bribed, but she wasn’t that naive.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Blaise had a way about him, certainly, that definitely aided in his successes. He was tall, dark and handsome with the brightest, bluest eyes she’d ever seen. A perfect smile, perfect curling black hair, perfect everything. The kind of good looks that, when he paid you any attention at all, made you never want to disappoint him. Which is probably why he rarely heard the word “no”. Those charms had never worked on Hermione, though.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I, uh,” Hermione glanced at the manila folder in her hand, “Honestly? I had a glass of wine too many last night and Ron was in my office making my headache much worse.” Blaise chuckled and gave her a slow study, from her head to her toes. She felt herself blush and she wasn’t sure why.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Understandable,” Blaise said with a shrug, taking his seat once more. “I’ve got an extra hangover potion if you need.” He rifled through a drawer of the desk before holding a tiny vial of violet liquid out to her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thanks.” Hermione popped the tiny cork before downing it like a shot of liquor. “I guess I should get back to work.” She placed the now empty vial on Blaise’s desk and made to leave, but was stopped by a warm hand catching around her wrist.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why?,” Blaise asked with a very Slytherin smirk, “I’m hungover, you’re hungover, and I’ve got just the cure.” Hermione snatched her wrist from his grasp. <em>What the fuck was wrong with these men?</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t know what you’ve heard about me, Zabini, but I very much don’t mix business with pleasure.” Blaise blinked up at her, confused, before laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Granger, dear, dear Granger,” Blaise mused, “I merely intended on ordering us the greasiest takeaway you could come up with.” The revelation caused Hermione’s already flushed cheeks to deepen to a burning, tomato-y red.</p>
<p>“Well, sure, I suppose we could do that,” Hermione sniffed, having a seat again. Work could wait a little longer.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>— — —</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, thank you, mum, this is so…sweet of you.” Hermione sat at the dining room table in her parents home, holding a voucher for ten spin classes at some posh gym in Fulham - was her mother trying to hint at something?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, love, I thought it may be something fun for you! Not to mention, that’s where Charlotte met her Greg. Speaking, of darling, have you called your cousin yet to congratulate her on the engagement?” <em>Ah, there it is.</em> Hermione’s mother blinked at her innocently over her glass of port, but Hermione knew better. There was nothing innocent about her mum, and in instances like this, it was better to lie through your teeth than start an argument.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I actually sent a little card along; it was so sweet, with little doves and flowers,” Hermione play-acted, smiling with a little scrunch to her nose. “You would’ve loved it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh lovely!” Hermione’s mom cleared her throat, and the witch braced herself behind the most genuine smile she could manage, which wasn’t very. “And are you seeing anyone, then?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hermione’s father stood abruptly, pushing his chair from the table with an audible grating against the wood floor. “Think I’ll go start the dishes, let you two chat.” Hermione rolled her eyes - fat lot of help he would be at distracting her mother onto a different topic. <em>Coward</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Mum, I’ve been really so, so busy with work lately-“</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“As you always are.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And I’ve still got loads of time to date-“</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You were four by the time I was your age.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Besides, it’s really difficult in my world to settle down-“</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Which is why I bought that voucher for our gym.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And, <em>actually</em>, mum, I am kind of seeing someone so really we should just move on from this, alright?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Oh fuck</em>. Her mother’s eyes lit up like it was Christmas morning and she’d just received the gift she’d wanted most desperately.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Who is he? Or she? They? When can we have them for supper? Would tea be preferable? Your father and I could always meet up somewhere closer to you if you’d prefer. Wait - magic, or non-magic? Anyone we know?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Mum!” For the umpteenth time today, Hermione sunk her head into her hands and sighed. “It’s pretty fresh actually, and I’m not sure if it will go anywhere, so we should probably give it some time first.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She hadn’t meant to tell such a blatant lie; she’d only wanted to shut her mum up. Which clearly didn’t work. Hermione had a sneaking suspicion that she’d just made everything ten times worse.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fine, Hermione,” her mother mused, giving her a sly smile. “But your father and I won’t wait forever, you know.” Oh, Hermione knew. She definitely knew.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>— — —</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ginny Potter, née Weasley, picked up a pair of lacy crotchless knickers and stretched the waistband to snap them at Hermione from across the table. “I don’t understand why you love it here so much. It’s <em>expensive</em> and those knickers were only slightly bigger than what I floss my teeth with.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“At least I’ve got you flossing regularly,” Hermione laughed. “And sometimes you just have to treat yourself, Gin.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Or treat Draco Malfoy.” Everything seemed to go silent. Hermione swallowed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How did you-“ Ginny looked over from where she’d been examining a horrendous hot pink teddy, her eyes almost comically wide.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Really?!” Ginny clapped a hand over her mouth. “Ron told me he couldn’t get a name out of you, so I told him I’d try to get you to crack but” She paused, a hand resting at her temple, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. Hermione would’ve laughed if she wasn’t so mortified at breaking one of the only rules laid out for her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ginny, I told him I wouldn’t speak of it with anyone, please, please-“ Ginny nodded, abruptly taking the older witch by the elbow and ushering her towards the door of the boutique.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And you won’t,” Ginny said definitively, “after you’ve told me absolutely every detail you can remember over lunch.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>More Draco in the next chapter! And what is Blaise up to? Can Ginny keep a secret?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Hell to Pay</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for all the lovely feedback! Hope you enjoy x</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hermione was sure that if she held the pen in her hand any tighter, it would snap clean in half. Were it a quill, it probably already would’ve. Pens were just so much more efficient, less wasteful - and Draco hated them, so it seemed like a small victory every time she used one.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It just isn’t particularly well-thought out, Granger,” Malfoy drawled, closing the thick navy folder and sliding it across the conference table in her direction. “I understand why it would seem the easiest route to take, but I think it’s a little too -“ he waved his fingers around in the air “incendiary.”</p>
<p>Hermione scoffed. “Of course you’d find helping jobberknolls to be <em>incendiary</em>.”</p>
<p>“I have to agree with Draco here, Hermione,” Kingsley spoke up, finally. Hermione bit her tongue, hard, to keep from rolling her eyes. “It won’t do to upset the Lithuanian ministry by cutting the feather trade in half. They’re currently our largest source of mandrake, and if we sacrifice the jobberknolls, I’m sure they’ll retaliate there.”</p>
<p>Hermione couldn’t help the annoyed little hum she made and she began tapping her pen incessantly against the table.</p>
<p>“Granger, look, when I asked you to find a policy that needed some tweaking to be more environmentally friendly, I wasn’t looking for one that would ruin our trade relationship with Lithuania. We just need to stay relevant. You know, good press.” Draco adjusted his reading glasses and Hermione saw red.</p>
<p>“Yes,” she hissed, “yes, exactly, that’s what this is all about. <em>Good press.</em>”</p>
<p>Kingsley stood, smoothing out his emerald robes with a smile. “Glad you’ve come around, Hermione. It truly is what this ministry needs most, right now.”</p>
<p>— — —</p>
<p>“Come in,” Draco called to whomever was knocking on his door. Hermione Granger all but barreled through, cheeks still flushed with her failure.</p>
<p>“I can’t believe you, Malfoy! Since when are you so easily manipulated by the ministry, playing into their little ploys for publicity. You know that was the best opportunity we had at forcing Lithuania’s hand in stopping such a cruel practice, but <em>oh</em> - you don’t really care, do you? You’ll do anything for the minister, anything at -“ She stopped short, eyes going wide. Draco was leaned back in his chair, long fingers slowly tugging down the zip of his trousers, before flicking the button open. She gasped audibly. He reached into his pants, pulling himself out. Draco’s fist grabbed his gradually hardening length in a firm grip, pumping slowly up and down while Hermione’s brow furrowed further and further into a scowl.</p>
<p>“Close the door, would you, Granger?” She pulled it shut a little too quickly, the slam echoing down the hall. Turning back to him, eyes ablaze, she began to protest.</p>
<p>“What the bloody <em>fuck</em> do you think you’re doing,” she hissed, subconsciously taking a step closer to him. “This is <em>entirely</em> inappropriate! Not to mention, you’re most definitely breaking one of your very own rules!”</p>
<p>“If I recall-,” his breath caught on a low moan, his palm twisting around the head before making it’s way to his base again, “I said no speaking of it at work. I mentioned nothing about <em>doing.</em>” Normally, he would be quite ashamed of how he was acting, but it was like something inside of him had snapped (<em>his sanity perhaps) </em>and Hermione ranting and raving had, for some reason, made all of his blood rush south. Undeniably, it also had something to do with the fact that she had worn a slim fitting black pantsuit today that only emphasized the heart shape of her arse.</p>
<p>Hermione huffed again, and Draco thought she may have even given a small stomp of her heel.</p>
<p>“Come here,” he breathed, watching as her eyes followed the path of his hand reverently. Gods, he hoped he wasn’t reading this wrong. He’d be mortified if she just turned and left, or worse, reported him.</p>
<p>“If you honestly think I’m doing this here, <em>with you</em>, you are sorely mistaken,” Hermione growled although she ended up on the other side of his desk, close enough she could smell her favorite cologne. Draco tutted disapprovingly, swiveling in his chair so that she was stood between his legs. They were locked in a staring contest, her cheeks flushed impossibly redder as she stared challengingly into his grey eyes, the pupils blown wide with arousal. It felt like hours before Draco finally broke the silence.</p>
<p>“On your knees then,” he said in barely a whisper, relishing in the way she gave no fight and sunk to her knees in front of him. She was so close, close enough that the knuckles from his still-moving hand brushed against her nose and she looked up at him, her front teeth worrying her bottom lip. Draco groaned.</p>
<p>“Open your mouth,” he said, his voice low and commanding. Her plump lips fell apart, and he almost lost it entirely at her easy obedience. “Now, stick out your tongue.” Hermione did as she was told, her pink tongue flattening out of her mouth as she gazed up at him through dark lashes.</p>
<p>With his thumb and pointer finger around the base of his cock, Draco tapped the head against Hermione’s tongue. She shifted, almost impatiently on her knees, her hands coming up to rest high on his thighs.</p>
<p>“Go on,” he said breathlessly, watching as the brunette witch eagerly engulfed the head of his cock in her mouth, still keeping eye contact as she swirled her tongue around the tip. This was something they hadn’t done yet, and she began to go at it with a vengeance, as though she had something to prove. She bobbed along his length, one hand grasping his shaft and mirroring her mouth’s movement. Draco groaned at the stimulation, his head lolling backwards in pleasure. Hermione sunk down slowly, lower and lower, until he could feel her throat clenching around him, hear the small gags she made as she tried to fit as much of him as possible. Saliva coated him and dripped down her chin. He wasn’t quite as long as Ginny had guessed, though he was a good deal thicker, and she struggled to get to his base.</p>
<p>Hermione pulled away, amber eyes sparkling, a thin string of spit connecting from her bottom lip to his cock. Draco’s hips thrusted forward at the loss, searching for the warmth of her mouth again. She tugged on him with a confident grip, quick and determined.</p>
<p>“You thought you were in control of this, Malfoy, didn’t you,” Hermione mused, one of her own hands coming up to caress her full breast through her blouse. Her thumb rubbed quick circles over where her nipple was and she moaned lowly in pleasure. Draco was dangling on the precipice of his orgasm, his eyes already starting to roll at the mental image of coming in thick, ropy spurts over her face.</p>
<p>“You’re not,” she hissed, removing her hand as though she’d been burned. Hermione stood abruptly, straightened her skirt and smiled demurely down at the first confused, and then angry, man. “We have a floo call with Greece in twenty minutes. You may want to take care of that.”</p>
<p>Draco sputtered, then huffed, then groaned, rubbing his hands over his face in frustration. By the time he removed them, the witch was gone from the room, and he wasn’t entirely sure he hadn’t dreamt the whole thing. There was one thing he was sure of, though. There would be hell to pay for that little stunt.</p>
<p>\</p>
<p>— — —</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ginny poured another glass of champagne for herself, topping it off with what Hermione thought may have been one literal drop of orange juice. Brunch in muggle London had quickly become Ginny’s favorite Sunday morning ritual after Hermione had treated her for a birthday a few years back. Now, they regularly shared gossip over eggs benny or avocado toast.</p>
<p>“I don’t see what the big deal is,” Ginny shrugged, slathering a piece of sourdough toast with blackberry jam. “It’s just a plus-one. You could bring anyone. Hell, I’ll go if you can’t find someone.” Hermione shook her head vigorously, tossing back the last of her mimosa before reaching for the bottle.</p>
<p>“No, Ginny, that wouldn’t work because my mum knows you.” Hermione took another large swing. “And I’ve told her I’m seeing someone, so I know she expects me to bring them.”</p>
<p>“You told <em>your mum </em>about Draco? What did you tell her? Gods, I hope you didn’t mention the office incident.”</p>
<p>“Gross, no, Ginny!” Hermione visibly cringed. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it to you either, clearly. You promise not to tell anyone, right?” Ginny gave her friend an eye roll and gestured at her to go on.</p>
<p>“I just mentioned I was seeing someone when I went for dinner on my birthday,” Hermione said with a sigh. “I didn’t say who, but I know she’s only asked Charlotte for a plus one for me with the intention of meeting my ‘mystery date’.”</p>
<p>“So find someone.” Ginny took a bite of her toast. “Or ask Malfoy, though I think that could be rather awkward as you only communicate when you’re shagging or having a screaming match.” Hermione hummed in agreement.</p>
<p>“Who do we know that’s charming enough to fool your parents?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>— — —</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You look lovely this morning, Miss Granger. I think its the chignon; you have a very graceful neck and it suits you.” Hermione found herself blushing profusely at Blaise’s compliment. <em>A graceful neck, really, Hermione, that’s what got you? </em>He brushed past her towards his office and Hermione took a deep breath, in slight disbelief of what she was about to do.</p>
<p>“Erm, Blaise?” She spun on her heel (a delicate plum three inch d’Orsay pump today) steeling herself for his rejection, should it come. “Would you be my date to my cousin’s wedding?”</p>
<p>Blaise was silent. He quirked a dark brow at her, searching her face for something, though she wasn’t sure what.</p>
<p>“It’s just that I told my mum I was seeing someone,” Hermione rambled, “and I need to bring someone she doesn’t know, so Harry and Ron are obviously out, and I made a list of other options but everyone was either too dim to be convincing or would take it as an opportunity to be handsy with me, I mean, I’m mainly talking about Cormac there…” She sighed. “But I totally understand why you wouldn’t want to so maybe let’s forget I ever mentioned it?”</p>
<p>Hermione shrugged her shoulders before turning away quickly, eager to get to her office as quickly as possible and pretend she didn’t just thoroughly embarrass herself.</p>
<p>“Hermione?” She paused, too afraid to turn and face him. “Can I take you to dinner first?” She turned at that.</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“Can I take you to dinner? If we’re supposed to be dating, it would be beneficial for us to get to know more about one another.” Blaise took a step closer to her, then another step until he was very much so in her bubble and she was sure her eyes were as wide as galleons. He reached out then, tucking an escaped tendril of hair behind her ear. She shivered. “And probably to be comfortable with little touches, like that one.”</p>
<p>She felt herself nodding before her answer came.</p>
<p>“This Saturday, then? Wear something nice, I’ve got a standing reservation at the best spot in town.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hmmm.. Blaise and Hermione? Or Draco and Hermione? ;)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. What The Hell</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hermione had worn a scarlet red dress that hugged her body to her knees, a Bardot neckline showing off her delicate collarbones and slender shoulders. She’d kept her hair in the chignon he’d seemed to like so much, and her ears glittered with two small diamond studs. They’d sat in a secluded corner of the restaurant, an intimate table set for two engulfed in the dull light from a candle in the center. Blaise had ordered the wine, something expensive and specific that she knew nothing about - it had been dry and delicious and left her with a smooth, heady buzz. Unsurprisingly, he had been a lovely dinner companion. They spoke briefly of work and at length of her hopes and passions. She’d almost been entirely enamored by the end, having had an enthralled listener as she droned on about the plight of grindylows, one of the world’s most misunderstood creatures.</p><p> </p><p>Then, Blaise had kissed Hermione.</p><p> </p><p>It was… <em>fine.</em> There really wasn’t another word for it than that. It was a nice kiss - a film kiss, but not the kind that seemed magical, passionate, hopeful. The kind that seemed practiced, expected and… fine. She had smiled and told Blaise that he didn’t have to take the ruse that far, but he’d shook his head and explained that it was quite genuine, and something that he’d been wanting to do. <em>Curious.</em></p><p> </p><p>And really, Hermione supposed, as she lay in bed later that night, she should give Blaise a chance. This was what her mother had been talking about right? This was what she deserved, wasn’t it? Next time, there would be butterflies. Tiny little fireworks going off in her head. Next time.</p><p> </p><p>— — —</p><p> </p><p>A quick rap of knuckles against her door frame startled Hermione, but the man leaning against it surprised her even more.</p><p> </p><p>“May I come in for a moment,” Draco asked quietly. Hermione drank him in - it seemed as though he’d been avoiding her since their last encounter, and for some bizarre reason, it had begun to bother her. He looked handsome today, very well put together in a three piece suit, a few shades darker grey than his eyes. There was definitely something to be said about a man in a waistcoat, and Hermione merely nodded in acquiescence.</p><p> </p><p>Hands shoved in his pockets, Draco stood in front of her desk. She motioned for him to have a seat, but he only shook his head.</p><p> </p><p>“I wanted to apologize, Granger.” Hermione gave a discreet pinch to the thin skin on the inside of her wrist. <em>Nope, not dreaming.</em></p><p> </p><p>“It was out of order, what happened the other day. And the other night for that matter.” She searched his eyes for the joke, for the moment when he turned to his usual snark. There was none of that there. Draco cleared his throat before continuing on.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s simply… unprofessional. I’m your superior and I’d hate to think that you feel taken advantage of in any way. I feel it’d be in both of our best interests if this-“ a hand motioning between him and her “- did not continue.” Hermione could only nod dumbly.</p><p> </p><p>“You agree, then?” A blond eyebrow raised and he removed a hand from his pocket to rub absently at his jaw.</p><p> </p><p>“Mmm, sure,” Hermione hummed, not sure what else she was supposed to say. <em>No, sorry, I haven’t gone a night without touching myself to the thought of your “magnificent” cock. Actually, could we have one more go just to make sure? </em>No, she was too proud to say either.</p><p> </p><p>“Wonderful. Just… great. I’ll see you at noon to discuss the embargo with Luxembourg?” He didn’t wait for her answer, just gave a curt nod before excusing himself from her office, leaving only the woodsy scent of cedar and juniper behind.</p><p> </p><p>— — —</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t get it.” Ginny flicked her wand at the tiny nail polish brush, directing it artfully to paint her little toe. “Are you sad he apologized, or sad because he doesn’t want it to happen again?”</p><p> </p><p>Hermione flopped onto her overstuffed couch. “Ugh. Neither? Both? I don’t know, Gin.” She reached absentmindedly for the glass of chardonnay on her side table, hand waving around for a few seconds before she finally connected with it. “He’s a complete tosser. I don’t even know why I went home with him in the first place.”</p><p> </p><p>“Or sucked his cock in his office,” Ginny added with an accusing waggle of her eyebrows.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, that too, whatever.” Hermione sighed dramatically. “He’s just been so… indifferent to me lately. Ever since he apologized, it’s like he’s afraid to acknowledge me at all. Not one insult, not one snarky comment during meetings - he won’t even contradict me anymore! In fact, he actually <em>agreed</em> with me in front of Kingsley yesterday!”</p><p> </p><p>“…And this is bad how?”</p><p> </p><p>Hermione let out a frustrated groan, “It isn’t! I guess some small, like really, really tiny, minuscule part of me liked the arguing. I liked feeling challenged, and pushed and - and…”</p><p> </p><p>“And it made your knickers wet”, Ginny said with a smirk, twisting the cap back on the nail lacquer. “Draco Malfoy was a complete arsehole to you, probably because of some twisted little schoolboy crush, and you are demented enough that it turned you on.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh hush,” Hermione grumbled at the younger witch, tossing back the last contents of her glass. “There most definitely is no crush. I was merely hypnotized by his… truly glorious penis. I’ll forget about it in no time.”</p><p> </p><p>“You know what my mum always said,” Ginny mused, pulling herself up off the floor. “The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.”</p><p> </p><p>“Your mum said that?!”</p><p> </p><p>“Gods, no, Hermione, can you imagine?” The women erupted into giggles as Ginny poured Hermione another glass of wine.</p><p> </p><p>— — —</p><p> </p><p>Draco removed his tortoiseshell framed reading glasses, setting them down before rubbing tiredly at his eyes. “It’s good, Granger, well-written and to the point.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s it?” Hermione huffed, pulling the report in front of him closer to her. “You don’t think I’m overreaching with the comparison of the Australian regulation? They aren’t even that similar.”</p><p>“I think it’s fine. You included it, so I trust your confidence in it.” Hermione only frowned.</p><p> </p><p>“And the statistics? It isn’t too much fluff? I didn’t feel they were entirely necessary, and one might even find them tedious to get through,” she pushed, flipping through the pages of parchment irritatedly.</p><p> </p><p>“Granger,” Draco sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If you included it in the report, I trust that you had a reason to do so. It’s well-done, as I said, and I’ll submit it to the minister tomorrow.”</p><p> </p><p>Hermione gathered all the papers together, shoveling them into the binder, thoroughly annoyed. “Bollocks you will, Malfoy. I need to edit this. Since you won’t critique it, someone must.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know what you want me to say, Granger.”</p><p> </p><p>“Anything, Malfoy!” Hermione slammed the binder closed so hard that Draco startled. “You’ve spent years telling me what’s wrong with <em>everything</em> I do! What’s changed? Is it because we’ve shagged?”</p><p> </p><p>“It has nothing to do with-“</p><p> </p><p>“Because it definitely seems like it! You’ve never been so civil to me in your <em>entire life</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe I should’ve been, Granger!” Malfoy thundered, standing up and slamming his palms against his desk. Hermione shot out of her own chair, standing her ground across the table. She watched his shoulders rise with each deep inhale, refusing to back down.</p><p> </p><p>“You know how you said I thought I was in control,” he begun in a tone no louder than a whisper, “you were wrong. I’ve never thought that. I know better. It’s <em>always </em>been you.” There was something vulnerable in his eyes then that caused Hermione’s heart to catch in her throat. Maybe Ginny hadn’t been entirely wrong. She studied him carefully, looking for an answer that wasn’t there.</p><p> </p><p>And then, he kissed her.</p><p> </p><p>Reaching across the table, he closed the distance between them, a hand pulling her gently by the neck into him. She wasn’t sure who moaned into the kiss - it may have been them both - but her tongue eagerly tangled with his in his mouth. Any thought of pulling away was dashed when Draco cupped her head with his hand, thumb running along her cheekbone tenderly. Hermione gripped onto him tighter, pulling him by the lapels of his jacket until their teeth crashed clumsily together. That’s when everything changed.</p><p> </p><p>There was no more soft kissing, only wanton snogging as Hermione pushed the jacket from his shoulders. She didn’t even realize she had crawled across the desk until Draco’s arms were tight around her waist, pulling her down with him until she was settled on his lap in his chair. She felt him harden under her with a groan, sliding her hips against the placket of his trousers in an attempt to alleviate the overwhelming heat of need she was feeling. He thrust roughly against her, pulling away from her mouth to drag in a shaky breath.</p><p> </p><p>“Please don’t make me stop,” Hermione murmured, her hips moving of their own accord, his hands coming to her hips to help her set a comfortable pace.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve never been able to make you do anything,” he chuckled, hands sliding the hem of her black wrap dress up her thighs. Her own hands went to his belt buckle, undoing it hastily, fingers reaching for him, pulling him from his pants. He pushed at his pants, shoving them further down his thighs while Hermione lifted herself onto her knees. She positioned herself over him, pushing a lacy red thong to the side, before sinking over the tip.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck,” she gasped at the stretch of him. His eyes watched her with overwhelming veneration, his bottom lip pulled into his mouth by his teeth. She sank slowly onto him, inch by agonizing inch until he was seated fully inside.</p><p> </p><p>“You have no idea, do you,” Draco groaned as he fucked slowly up into her. Hermione moaned faintly, her head falling backwards. He took advantage of their position, grabbing her hips as she leaned back against his desk, driving into her harder.</p><p> </p><p>“Look how beautiful you are stretched around my cock,” he purred, thumb stroking at her clit in a way that had her clenching. Hermione cursed, her eyes rolling shut at the sensation.</p><p> </p><p>“No, love, eyes on me.” She looked at him, hips snapping to met every thrust. “I want to watch you when you cum. You’re lovely.” Her lips parted in a silent moan and she felt that familiar flame in her abdomen, pushing her higher and higher. Draco ground up into her, setting a punishing pace as he toyed with her clit. “Wanna feel your pussy tighten around me, wanna feel you dripping down my cock.”</p><p> </p><p>“Please,” Hermione groaned, “please, Draco, don’t stop.” He surged forward, capturing her lips with his as he gave a sharp slap at her clit that had her crying out.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s for thinking I’d stop.” He gave another quick slap that made her moan. “And that’s because you like it.”</p><p> </p><p>— — —</p><p> </p><p>Hermione closed the door to Draco’s office quietly behind her, hoping that she would make it unnoticed back to her own office, where she could get a better handle on her hair and flushed cheeks.</p><p> </p><p>“Hermione!” <em>Ah, wishful thinking.</em> Blaise was coming down the hallway, smiling brilliantly at her in a way that made her feel immediately and terribly guilty.</p><p> </p><p>“We still on for dinner tomorrow? I was thinking maybe we could go dancing, get some steps in for the wedding,” he said with a wink, nudging her arm playfully.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh! Yes. That. Yes, of course we’re still on.” Hermione gave a faint, forced smile as Blaise nodded, brushing past her an into Draco’s office. “See you tomorrow then.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Oh bollocks.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Oh poor, silly Hermione! And Draco. Don't feel too bad for Blaise, though - he has his own set of secrets.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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